Sunday, April 22, 2007

Tuesday...aka-Let the Fun Begin

Tuesday started out as normal as can be. Took the kids to school, headed out to the office. When my office mate arrived with bagels, I went to go and make one. Unfortunately, as soon as I pushed the lever to toast the silly thing, something went terribly wrong in my back. I haven't ever been able to understand why people on TV bend at the middle and don't get back up when their "back goes out", however at that moment...I completely understood.

And then I realized that I had just done the unthinkable. I'd pulled my back while toasting a bagel. Um, how out of shape am I? Wait! Is that even possible? Can a person actually pull a muscle lowering the toast? Maybe I was just in the exactly right wrong position.

Well, I made it to my chair and was able to choke down my bagel. I took a few phone calls in excruciating pain. I tried very hard not to let on the exaperation that was required for each breath. After trying to work in this pain for about an hour, I thought maybe if I laid down and relaxed these cramped up muscles in my back, that I might be more able to sit and breathe without this pain.

I eased into a position where I could relax and I woke up 2 hours later. I recall trying to carefully reposition once during which I realized that my relaxation technique had not fully taken hold. It wasn't taking hold even a little bit. I got up and made it back to my desk. I worked until about 2 hours after I couldn't handle the pain anymore. My back had never hurt in that place before, and I wasn't convinced that there weren't some internal organs trying to eject themselves through my ribs!!!

I made it to the doctor's office and waited in the waiting room for over an hour. I tried not to breathe too deep so I wouldn't be infected with their germs. I hate going to the doctor's office, but not because I don't like the doctor. It's the waiting room that completely freaks me out. There are germs everywhere. Sick, snotty, slimy kids who want to share everything with everyone. And mothers who have so obviously hit the ends of their ropes, that apparently anything their child does is acceptable. Including gorging themselves in water from the bubbler.

When I finally made it back with the MA, I was glad to see that my weight hadn't spiraled upward as much as I had thought. In fact, with my coat and my shoes on (because it would have hurt too much just to take them off and then pick them back up again moments later) I weighed about what I weighed with those things off the last time I was there.

We went into the exam room and he asked me some questions. I was embarrassed to admit the events that led to this extreme pain, but I was getting on a plane in the early morning and just needed some muscle relaxants to get through the trip. Not going was not an option in my mind.

Then the doctor came in and asked me if I'd been feeling sick lately, nauseated, run down. I said that I had, but I have been going through a lot of things personally and emotionally, so I made nothing of my loss of appetite. Then he asked me about previous back pain. Again, I acknowledged a history of back pain, but never in this place. Finally, he asked me where it was. High mid-back, on the left. I was invited into a bathroom wherein I was able to provide the smallest sample ever of urine.

I watched the doctor and nurse do the little paper test. I heard mention of trace and possibly...whoa! Yeah. Okay. Thanks.

He came back into the room and checked my lungs. That required breathing deeply. I mentioned earlier how painful that was. I did my best, but apparently he couldn't be sure. He really wanted to do some more investigation. Knowing that probably meant imaging and my office was closed to walk in patients by this time, I informed him that I was leaving on a plane very early the next morning and really needed a solution for my pain. He then asked me if I'd seen any blood in my urine or had pain with urinating in the last few weeks. I honestly didn't recall specifically. It's been a wild few weeks for me, so...

I had to go to WalMart anyway. There were a couple of things I needed to pick up for my trip anyway and they have a pharmacy. Apparently, they were also picking up the slack for my pharmacy. I had to wait 45 minutes. I was already in so much pain when I got there. I slowly lumbered through the aisles getting the few things I needed. I self-checked since there was no line and got out for $26. Plus the cost of my meds.

I went straight home and cried as I packed. Not that I was sad to go, just that the Vicodin hadn't kicked in AT ALL. I was aided by my Sweet One to finish one last load of laundry. I confirmed with my dad that he was going to take me to the airport at 5:10 in the morning.

As I was on my way upstairs to bed, I realized that I hadn't checked in for my flight. That didn't take too long to do, but then I needed to print the stupid boarding pass.

Yes, I work with computers. I fix printers for a living. Making computers and printers talk to each other. And yet at home, I have nothing set up to print to. Thank goodness my dad was still awake and online. I had him print it for me.

Thanks Daddy! Then off to bed.

My favorite part of this evening was how much fun it was to get hit from behind in the bathroom. I was trying to pee, but that's not what my body had in mind. It's was a long 20 minutes, and I had yet to really pee despite how much cranberry juice I drank. Apparently, the fruit in it had a different effect.

I was up a couple of times in the night taking care of that before the next morning came.